


Things that Nobody Cares About

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Isle of Flightless Birds [7]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, D/s AU, Edgeplay, M/M, Multi, Open Relationship, Orgasm Control, POV Alternating, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiations, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome - switch/switch/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8685079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: Tom brings it up first when he and Chorns are sprawled out on Tom’s bed, sometime in the middle of October.  If you ask Tom, physical contact is the best way to get anything out of anyone, whether it’s sex or a swift punch in the face.





	1. Wilson.

**Author's Note:**

> joelwards said: tom made eye contact with chorns and said 'pure domination'. it's canon.
> 
> I do not represent the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do I make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives.

_Wilson._

 

It first comes up when Tom and Chorns are sprawled out on Tom’s bed, sometime in the middle of October.  Chorns is still breathing hard, staring up at the ceiling, and he’s still got the condom on his softening cock. 

Tom is a little surprised it took them this long to actually fuck in a bed, but honestly, trading handies in the bathroom at Kettler is a lot more convenient, and too many kneeling sessions in the living room have turned into rug burn on Tom’s back.

But it’s nice to actually spread out, and not have to immediately clean up and get dressed.  Chorns’s arm is stretched out towards Tom, and Tom barely thinks before he reaches out and slaps it in a high-five.

“Good show, dude,” Tom says lazily, reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand.

“How do you have this much energy,” Chorns groans, seeming to need a bunch of effort to turn and look at Tom.  “You’ve got to be an… an incubus or something.”

“The fuck is that?” Tom laughs, then drains half the bottle of water.  He holds the rest out to Chorns, but he just groans and shakes his head.

“It’s a sex demon or something.  Gets energy from sex, steals it from whoever they fuck.”

Tom laughs again and flops back onto the bed next to Chorns.  “Oh, so you think I’m the reason you’re all worn out?  Maybe I’m just too much for you to handle.”

Chorns snorts.  “Right.”

Tom grins wickedly. “Maybe you’re getting _old_.”

The glare Chorns shoots at him is hilarious enough that Tom doesn’t care if it’ll be more trouble to convince Chorns to fuck him next time.

“Maybe you need a younger model then,” Chorns says scathingly.  “Maybe Sanny’d be up for it.”

Tom hums.  “Yeah, maybe.  I mean, you’ve seen his dick, right?  Think he knows how to use it?”

There’s a pause, and then Chorns rolls away from him with his hands over his face.

“ _No_ ,” Chorns groans, muffled by his hands and then the pillow.  “No, we’re not talking about this.”

“After _that_ , we definitely are.”  Tom follows him to the other side of the bed, draping himself over Chorns’ back.  Physical contact is the number one way to get anything out of anyone, whether it’s sex or a swift punch in the face.  “C’mon, is _he_ too much to handle?”

“If anything it’d be too much for _you_ to handle,” Chorns shoots back.  Apparently a grievous insult of his sexual prowess is enough to get to him.  Tom files that away for future use.

“What if he’s a bottom?”

“You sound too excited about that for someone who’s a sub.”

“Subs can fuck, too,” Tom replies breezily.  “But I was thinking more of you fucking him.”

“And you’d just watch?” Chorns asked, the incredulity in his voice clear.

“Well, maybe he could fuck me, too.”

Chorns looks over his shoulder, abandoning his dignity-preserving pillow.  “You have been thinking about this,” Chorns accuses.

“You haven’t?” Tom shoots back.

Chorns grimaces; that answers that question.

“Seriously,” Tom says quietly.  “What’s the harm in thinking about it?  It’s not like we even know his dynamic.”

Chorns grimaces again, harder.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom says with a grin.  “You know something, don’t you?”

“I heard him asking Holts if he could kneel for him,” Chorns replies, burying his face in the pillow again.  “And he was asking Burky about the other Doms on the team.”

“He’s a sub!” Tom crows, squeezing his arms around Chorns.  “Fuck, that’s even better!”

“Can we please just drop this?” Chorns pleads.  Tom grins and sets his teeth to Chorns’s shoulder.  He’s ready for round two, after all this talk of Sanny’s dick, and Chorns will be, too, soon enough.

 

 

It’s just, no – Tom can’t just drop it.  Now that it’s become something of a possibility, he has to ask Sanny about it.  Like, actually _has to_.

Chorns may or may not have said that he wouldn’t talk about it anymore until Tom found out what Sanny’s whole deal is with subbing here in DC.

So one day after practice, when Sanny’s out collecting pucks, Tom decides to spend a little longer practicing his shooting.  He tries to keep his pucks together and not scattered over the ice; he wants Sanny to be in a good mood, after all.

And they just so happen to be leaving the ice at the same time.  Total coincidence, really.

“So, how’re you adjusting here?” Tom asks, when they’re piling their extra sticks up on the racks.

“Um,” Sanny says, glancing over at him.  “Fine.”

“You’re not…” Tom searches for the appropriate phrase.  “Frustrated?”

“What, because I haven’t scored a goal?” Sanny’s voice goes sharp, and the defiant look on his face doesn’t fit with the soft lines of it.

“Because you haven’t found a Dom you fit with yet,” Tom replies with a sort of calm he doesn’t often feel.  “It took me a bit to settle down with Mike.”

“Latta?” Sanny asks, frowning a little.  “He’s…”

“With the Kings, yeah.”

Sanny seems to perk up a little.  “So how’ve you adjusted?  I mean, if it took you that long to find someone you fit with—”

“He still Doms me, over skype or the phone, sometimes.  But I found someone else here.”  He looks at Sanny and grins.  “So if you’re looking for a rec, I’d say ask Chorns.”

“He’s a switch, isn’t he?”

“You’re not one of those subs that think switches aren’t as good as Doms, are you?” Tom tries to hide his disappointment.  But only a little, because desire to fuck him or not, Tom’s sick of hearing people putting down switches like that.

Sanny flushes.  “I mean, I’m a switch, too.”

Tom blinks.  Oh _fuck_ yes.

“So it’d be pretty hypocritical if I had an issue with it?”

“Yeah, it probably would be,” Tom says, trying to pull himself together.  Sanny’s a fucking _switch_.  “But you’re… just looking for a Dom to play with?”

“Yeah.”  Sanny shrugs, and turns to Tom.  “It’s what I’m more comfortable with.”

“Carly’s a lost cause,” Tom tells him, leaning in a little closer, conspiring.  “Good luck trying to sway any of the D-men away from Osh, really.  Stick’s pretty open right now, I think, since Richie’s gone.  You could try asking Kuzy, but I don’t really know what his deal is.  And, of course, Chorns.”

“Is that who you’ve been going to?”

Tom grins.  He loves how straightforward this kid is.

“Yeah, Chorns has been putting me down.”

Sanny considers him for a moment, then nods.  “Okay, yeah.  I’ll think about it.  Thanks, Willy.”

He sounds sincere about it, too, so Tom just grins and slaps Sanny on the shoulder.  “‘Course.  Now c’mon, let’s go get out of this shit.”

 

 

It’s when they’re lying in bed that Chorns asks, “So what’s your plan?” with all the long-suffering that Tom’s sure everyone who spends more than a day with him develops.  Mike had it down to an art, really, by the time he left for LA.

“We’ve gotta, like, court him.”

Chorns rolls his eyes.  “Right.  So you’re going for more subtle than when you propositioned _me_?”

Tom tries to be offended.  “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yes, going up to me after practice and sitting on my lap half-naked worked.”

“I think it’d just scare Sanny out of his skin though.”

“You think?” Chorns asks dryly.

Tom sighs melodramatically and crosses to the other side of the couch, settling on Chorns’s lap.

“Really?” Chorns asks, raising an eyebrow.

“C’mon, doesn’t it make you horny, thinking about it?” Tom asks, looping his arms around Chorns’s neck.  “He’s a _switch_ , Chorns.  It’d be perfect.”

“Are you fetishizing my dynamic?”

Tom rolls his eyes.  “You know what I mean.  You usually like Domming, and he usually likes subbing.  Like, that’s perfect.  Bet he’d totally be into you fucking him while he fucks me.”

“And what’re you going to do if he winds up coming to me first?”

Tom frowns a little.  “What, you think I’ll be jealous?”

“That he’s not fucking _you_ , maybe.”

Chorns sounds like he’s making fun of Tom.  Really, the only way to deal with that is kiss him and grind against him, so any more mockery gets swallowed up.

“Seriously, what’s your plan?” Chorns asks.  He has to break the kiss to do it, and Tom pouts.

“I told you,” Tom groans.  “We’re gonna court him.  Like, take him to dinner, invite him over.  Here, because your place is a fucking dump.”

“Hey,” Chorns says, but it’s more a token protest than anything.  He spends more nights here than he does at his own place anyway.

“And even if he doesn’t want to,” Tom adds, “He’s new to the city.  It’s the least we could do.”

Chorns softens at that, petting his thumb over Tom’s hip.  “Yeah, okay.”

“So, dinner Thursday?”

“All right.”  Chorns grips Tom’s hip, then, with more intent.  “But you’ll make it worth my while.”

 

 

It’s when they’re driving down U st looking for a place to park that Chorns asks, “So, remind me how you found this place?”

“I may or may not have looked at a list of the best first date bars in the city.”

Chorns blows out a breath.  “Tom…”

“I know, I know,” Tom replies.  “It’s not a date, just dinner with friends.  But it seems like a cool place.”

Chorns cuts sharply to the right, when he sees a spot right on the end of the block.  He glides in smoothly, with much more skill than Tom knows he’d ever be able to accomplish.

“Don’t scare him away,” Chorns warns, reaching across the center console and hooking his fingers in the collar of Tom’s sweater.

“I won’t,” Tom replies, licking his lips.

Chorns huffs and drags his fingers over the bare skin of Tom’s throat before turning the car off and climbing out.  Tom follows him out, and down around the corner to 1905.

He’s only a little surprised to see Sanny leaning up against the outside of the building, one hand jammed in his pocket and his phone in the other.

“Sup, dude,” Tom calls, bumping his shoulder against Sanny’s when he gets close enough.  Sanny grins and shoves his phone into his pocket, bumping Tom back.

“Hey,” he says to the both of them.  He flicks his eyes down when he turns to Chorns, the sort of deference subs give to Doms, sometimes, and Tom’s sure he only saw it because he was looking so closely.  When they turn to go inside, Tom catches Chorns’s eyes and raises his eyebrows.  Chorns rolls his eyes, but there’s a pleased tilt to his lips, so Tom knows he saw it, too.

They manage to get a quiet table in the corner, where they’re still in good enough view of the bar that they won’t be forgotten, but people’s eyes won’t really go to them.  Tom’s realized how important that is, now, especially when they’re just trying to have a low-key meal.

“Thanks for inviting me out,” Sanny says, pulling off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair.  He’s wearing a Henley, thin, a little tight, and Tom has to surreptitiously clear his throat before he can answer.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Chorns says, slinging his arm over the back of Tom’s chair.  “Figured since it looks like you’re gonna be staying up we should get to know you better.”

Sanny flushes a little, but grins, just at the thought of staying up with Caps for his first season.  Tom knows the feeling.

“You seem like a cool enough guy,” Tom adds, trying to play it cool, and not really knowing if he succeeds.

A waitress comes over then, taking their drink orders and promising to be back for their food.

“At least you’re coming up to the big leagues when you can drink,” Tom tells Sanny, shaking his head.  “That was the most irritating shit my first year.”

“Nation’s capital, right?” Chorns says with a grin.  “Gotta make sure they’re all following the law.”

“I never get carded anyway,” Sanny says with a shrug.

Tom makes a noise of protest.  “You’re tall, but c’mon, with that baby face?”

Sanny flushes again, really only proving his point, and shrugs once more.  “I dunno.”

Tom tries to back off a little, then, and the three of them chat about safe topics: hockey, beer, what they did over the summer.  Meals, workouts.

They don’t verge back to dynamics until Sanny’s three deep, Chorns as well, and Tom has had four.  By that point, Tom’s leaning into Chorns’s side, and Chorns’s arm has moved from the back of his chair to his shoulders, his fingers rubbing over the edge of Tom’s sweater.

“So how does it work?” Sanny asks suddenly, and then his mind seems to catch up with his mouth, and he blushes brightly.

“How does what work?” Tom asks.

Sanny seems to steel himself, a flash of determination crossing his face.  “You two.  You mentioned – Mike too?  But I’ve…”

“Have you never played with someone?” Chorns asks, a little lazily.

“Of course I have,” Sanny nearly-snaps.  “There was this girl, y’know, junior year through the whole time I was in Boston.”

“And you guys kept it pretty vanilla?” Tom asks, thinking back to the Dommes he would play with in juniors.  He likes male Doms better, he thinks, especially ones that play hockey, too.  They understand the mindset a little more.

Sanny takes a big gulp of his beer.  “Why did I bring this up?” he groans, once he’s swallowed.

“When they get the chance, he skypes Mike,” Chorns says, finally answering the original question.  “When he needs something physical, I’m there.  When I need to Dom someone, he’s there.  Even though I’m a switch, I tend to Dom more than I sub.”

“Oh,” Sanny says quietly.  “Okay, that makes sense.  I’m just not used to how everyone’s.  All mixed up.”

“Like Osh and the entire D-corps,” Tom supplies.

Sanny nods.  “Yeah.  People… paired off more.  At BC.  You picked someone, and that was it.”

“There are still people that do that,” Chorns says, always the more emotionally in-tune one of the two of them.  “If you aren’t comfortable moving around, or playing with more than one person, we’re not going to chirp you for it.  I don’t think Backy or Ovi’s played with anyone else in years.  Even with the whole Oshie thing, he’s the only one Carly really plays with.  Just because Tommy here’s a slut doesn’t mean you have to be.”

Tom laughs, cutting off whatever defense of him Sanny looked like he was about to spit out.

“He’s right, though,” Tom tells Sanny.  “You be you, okay?”

Sanny nods, and finishes off his beer.  It’s getting late, now; they’ve eaten, they’ve gone through pretty much as many beers as they can get away with when there’s practice in the morning.

“All right,” Tom announces, levering himself off of Chorns.  “I think we should call it before someone winds up puking during practice tomorrow.”

Chorns laughs; Sanny looks a little worried.

“Walk you out to your car?” Tom offers to Sanny, pulling on his jacket.  “Me and Chorns are just around the corner.”

“Oh, I, uh.”  Sanny blushes again.  “I took the metro.”

Tom blinks.  Chorns just grins and claps him on the shoulder.  “We’ll give you a ride, then.  C’mon.”

Chorns slips his arm around Sanny’s shoulders sometime between leaving their table and getting out the front door.  With the way Sanny’s leaning into him, Tom can’t really be jealous.  He wishes, for a moment, that he could burrow in closer, too, press against Chorns’s other side.  But it’s nice to walk next to them, too, back to the car, until they all have to separate to get in.

For a second – just a split-second – Tom wants to suggest Sanny stay over, the way that Chorns is.  There’s still a spare bed, and maybe if Sanny heard them, or saw something, it’d help… push him.  But Chorns said not to scare him away, and Tom can listen when it’s going to pay off in the end.


	2. Chorney.

_Chorney._

 

It’s only about a day later, when October’s just verging on November, that Sanny comes up to Taylor after practice and just… stands there.

“You need something?” Taylor asks, twisting back to hang his chest protector up.

“Can I talk to you?” Sanny asks, quiet and rushed.  “In private?”

Taylor looks back at him, silently assessing.  Sanny looks wound tight, a pinch to his mouth that Taylor doesn’t remember seeing before.  “Of course,” he says finally.  “Give me time to change.  You should get out of your gear, too.”

Sanny nods jerkily, and clomps over to his stall, just starting to take off his helmet.

Willy’s looking at him, when Taylor finally glances over.  Willy winks at him, but doesn’t give him a thumbs up or make any sort of obscene gesture, so Taylor’s counting it as progress.

He changes a little faster than he usually does, he guesses, but it’s worth it to see the lines smoothing out of Sanny’s forehead when he makes his way over.  Sanny’s still working on getting his street clothes on, but Taylor is fine to lean against the side of his stall and wait until Sanny grabs his jacket and stands there expectantly.

“Follow me,” Taylor says, and leads him to one of the concussion testing rooms that’s empty, at this time, and more-or-less soundproof.  “What did you need to talk about?”

Sanny’s perched on the edge of his chair, his fingertips digging into his knees.  “It’s embarrassing,” he admits.

“You know I’m not going to judge you,” Taylor says, though he doesn’t know how, exactly, Sanny would know that.

“I’m a switch,” Sanny says finally.

“I know.”

Sanny nods, and takes a deep breath before continuing: “But I’ve only subbed.”

Taylor nods.  “Okay.”

Sanny glances at him.  “You’re not…”

“I’m not…?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?  I’m supposed to be a switch but I’ve only ever subbed, I don’t really get the urge to Dom, at least, I haven’t before, but I _know_ I’m not a sub, and of course I’m not a Dom, and sometimes – sometimes I feel like maybe?  When I see someone a certain way?  But I don’t.  I don’t, y’know…”

Taylor reaches out and puts his hand on Sanny’s arm, stopping him when he seems to run out of steam.  “There’s no one way to be a switch.  You know that, right?”

Sanny’s silence answers that.

“For me,” Taylor starts, and pauses, so Sanny can stop him if he wants.  “For me, it’s definitely reactionary to who I’m with.  If I’m playing with a sub, I’ll feel like more of a Dom.  If I’m playing with a Dom, I’ll feel more like a sub.  There could be some element of, maybe, searching out someone based on how I’m leaning, but as far as I can tell, it’s much more just who I’m with.  Not everyone’s like that, of course, but it sounds like maybe you are as well?  You were talking about that Domme you played with, and maybe, if you were just with her, you didn’t really explore your own Dom side, because you were always subbing.”

“I didn’t really spend time with a lot of subs,” Sanny says finally.  “There weren’t many on the BC team, and they tended to stick together, or go with the Doms.  Everyone knew I didn’t really… so they just didn’t ask me.”

Taylor nods, squeezing his forearm gently.  “People get weird about switches, right?”

Sanny grins, then, quick and wide.  “Yeah, they really do.”

They’re both quiet, for a long while, Taylor watching Sanny and Sanny staring down at his knees.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” Taylor asks.

Sanny startles, looking up at him with wide eyes.  “Can I kneel for you?” he blurts out.

Taylor blinks.  “Not what I was expecting,” he admits.

Sanny flushes, his shoulders curling in.  “It’s okay.  I don’t have to.”

“No, no, if you want to, of course.”  Taylor pushes a hand through his hair.  “I’d be happy to have you kneel for me.”

Sanny flows to his knees, then, like it’s nothing, like he’s comfortable doing it.  He moves closer, presses his forehead to Taylor’s knee, curling up and relaxing in the space of a breath.

Taylor can’t help but compare it to Tom, how it’s almost a battle for Tom to go down, how long it takes the tension to sink out of his shoulders sometimes.  How Sanny just… kneels there so naturally.

He can see, now, how he’d never think to seek out a sub and try Domming, when he can have the same Domme willing to put him down like this for years.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, putting his hand on Sanny’s head.  His hair’s soft, flopping over his forehead, and Taylor pushes it back gently.

He doesn’t really keep track of how long they’re sitting there.  There’s no clock in the room, and he doesn’t want to disrupt Sanny by taking his phone out of his pocket.  He drifts, too, in that strange combination of being hyperaware of and separated from everything around them.

“Thank you,” Sanny says finally, rocking back and looking up at Taylor.

Taylor smiles at him, letting his hand fall from Sanny’s head.  “Anytime,” he says quietly.

He’s caught by this sudden urge to pull Sanny in again, pull him in between his legs like how Willy kneels, curl around him, catch his lips in a kiss.  It’s scary, a little, the intensity and suddenness of it.

Somehow he manages to push it down, and Sanny doesn’t seem to notice as he pushes up to his feet.

“See you tomorrow for lunch?” Sanny offers, lingering by the door.

“Yeah,” Taylor replies, still in his chair.  “Noon, right?”

“Right,” Sanny replies.  “You guys picking me up?”

“Of course.”

Sanny ducks his head and smiles, and before Taylor can say anything else, he slips out of the room.

 

 

It’s not really surprising when Taylor walked out to the garage and saw Tom leaning against his car.  They’d driven in together, after all, and even if Willy’s one of the guys that likes to stay and eat with everyone, he knew he and Sanny were there for a while.

“You’re telling me all about it,” Willy declares as soon as Taylor’s close enough.

“Sure,” Taylor replies.

They don’t talk about it on the drive back to Willy’s place, but Taylor can see how Willy’s jumpy with the need to know.

It’s not that Taylor really wants to keep what Sanny said secret, or anything.  He just didn’t get permission to tell Willy about it.  He knows Willy wouldn’t tell anyone – wouldn’t betray his trust, or Sanny’s.  But it still feels like it’s on the edge of what’s acceptable behavior.

“Okay, spill,” Willy demands, as soon as Taylor shuts the door to Willy’s apartment behind them.  “What did you do with him?”

“He just kneeled for me,” Taylor tells him, toeing off his shoes and walking over to the couch.  Willy trails behind him, and leans up against him on the couch once they’re both sitting.

“That’s it?” Willy asks.

“Yeah.”  Taylor pets his fingers over the back of Willy’s hand, and takes a breath.  “He relaxed into it so well, if he hadn’t said he was a switch I wouldn’t have ever guessed he was.  He just…”

“I wish I could’ve seen,” Tom says quietly.

“You will,” Taylor replies with conviction.  If nothing else, his conversation with Sanny showed that maybe playing with him and Tom could help.  An older switch Domming him, someone that understands that strange divide between your Dom self and your sub self, and a sub for him to Dom, one that Taylor’s already familiar with and could help Sanny with.  Hell, Taylor would sub for Sanny himself, if it was something Sanny wanted to try, to get more comfortable.  Willy’s not the only one that’s seen the size of his dick and _wanted_.

“So what did he say?”

Taylor shakes his head.  “I’m not telling you, Willy.  It was personal shit, okay?”

Willy huffs, but nods.  “Okay.”

Taylor strokes his fingers over Willy’s hand more firmly, trailing down onto his thigh, too, and tracing over the inseam of his jeans.

“Having Sanny kneeling for you wasn’t enough?” Willy teases, slumping even more into Taylor’s side.

“In a sense,” Taylor replies.  It’s easy to manhandle Willy onto his lap, pull him close and kiss him.  Willy sinks into it as easily as he always does, his hands buried in Taylor’s hair.

There’s a strange energy radiating off of Willy, tension in his back when Taylor skates his hands up under his shirt.

He kisses Willy harder, slipping his tongue into his mouth, coaxing Willy’s along with it, pulling back with a bite to his lip.  When their eyes meet, Willy’s seem a bit wild, something in the wideness of them and the set of his brows.

“Chorns,” Willy says quickly.  “I need—”

“I know what you need,” Taylor tells him.  He can feel the way Willy shudders at that, how something in him relaxes.

And Taylor does know what he needs.  Willy needs to be edged within an inch of his life, brought to the edge over and over and not allowed to come until he’s sobbing and there’s not a single thought in his mind except his need to come.

So he undoes the button and zip of Willy’s jeans one-handed, shoving his hand in and wrapping it around Willy’s cock.  Willy bucks into it and moans, his head dropping to Taylor’s shoulder.

“Chorns,” Willy whines, pushing closer.

“Shhh.”  Taylor twists his wrist on the next upstroke, to pull just a bit at Willy’s foreskin and give some more pressure to the head.  Willy groans, hips stuttering.  Taylor does it again, and again, ignoring the twinge in his wrist from the awkward angle.  After this first time, he can spread Willy out and it’ll be easier.

He can hear Willy grinding his teeth, the way he does when he’s trying to hold himself back.

“None of that,” Taylor tells him.  “Bite me if you need something.”

With a moan, Willy complies, first sucking a spot right at the base of Taylor’s neck, then biting down.

“Fuck,” Taylor groans, squeezing his hand tighter around Willy’s cock.  Willy’s getting close, now, with the way he’s biting harder at Taylor’s neck, rocking into his hand with abandon.  Finally – finally, when Willy stills except for his hips jerking, Taylor pulls his hand away.

Willy groans into Taylor’s neck, and when he pulls back, his eyes are closed, his mouth open.

“Chorns,” he pants.

“Bed,” Taylor replies, and helps steady Willy as he gets to his feet.  He needs Taylor’s arm around him to get to the bedroom, but once the bed’s in sight, he’s able to stumble over and drop onto it.  He tries kicking off his jeans; he doesn’t quite manage it, until Taylor comes over and helps him.  Willy’s cock is red and dripping, just about as hard as Taylor’s ever seen it.  He presses his fingers to the underside, stroking from his balls to the tip, just to hear Willy moan shakily.

“Toys in the same place?”

Willy clenches his jaw and nods.  Taylor pets his stomach for a moment, then gets off the bed again and reaches under it for the duffle bag Willy keeps all his toys in.  He hoists it up onto the bed by Willy’s feet, just far enough that Willy won’t be able to see what he’s picking and ruling out.

“Looks like you found some new things,” Taylor says, digging through the plugs, cock rings, gags, blindfolds, nipple toys, and restraints that Willy’s collected.  He’s always been a lot more into the toy scene than other people Taylor’s played with, but he guesses it makes sense, considering how long Willy spends separated from his Dom.

“Yeah,” Willy manages to say.  Even when Taylor’s not touching him he’s still hard, barely holding himself back.  It’s a good start.

Taylor knows exactly what’ll bring Willy there, really drive him out of his mind.  It’s a brand new toy, sitting at the bottom of the bag.  Taylor’s just glad it’s charged up.

When he takes it out of the bag and holds it up, Willy groans.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Willy tells him, and he only sounds like he’s half-joking.

Taylor looks over the toy again.  It’s a prostate massager – so, perfect for edging Willy – with an extension to press into Willy’s perineum.  It’s thick, too, and long, curved perfectly to make that full, nearly overwhelming feeling without being actually painful.  It vibrates, too, at what seems to be a couple different speeds.

“You’ll survive,” Taylor says, and leans over Willy to kiss him.  Willy curls his hand around the back of Taylor’s neck, holding him close, just until Taylor pulls back, and then Willy lets him go easily.

“You haven’t tried this one.”  It’s not a question; Willy doesn’t answer it like one.

“Seemed like too much to try on my own.”

Taylor presses his lips to the side of Willy’s knee, and grabs the lube.

Willy never really goes long enough without something inside him to need too much stretching; it’s a simple job of one finger, two, scissor, three, stretch, and then Willy’s ready for the toy.

“I’m here,” Taylor says quietly, and presses the toy in.  Willy gasps, his head falling back against the pillows and staying there as Taylor works the toy in.

“Fuck,” Willy whines, his hand clenched in the sheet.  His cock jerks; Taylor can guess how hard it is for Willy to stop from just jacking himself off right now.

“Halfway there,” Taylor tells him, rocking the toy out a bit and sliding it in another inch.

Willy’s squirming, now, his hips shifting on the bed, heels sliding over the sheets.  Taylor hooks his arm under Willy’s thigh and presses it closer to Tom’s stomach, pinning him against the bed and keeping his legs open. Willy settles, just enough that Taylor can thrust the toy in further without worrying about Willy moving too much and hurting himself.

“Chorns,” Willy moans, once it’s all the way in.  His chest is heaving, a fine tremor in his thighs.

“That’s the whole thing,” Taylor says, smoothing his hand over Willy’s thigh.  “Fuck, the whole thing.”

Willy just pants into the close air of the bedroom.  Taylor feels like it’s just them, like this, just the two of them in this little square of space.  He rocks the toy a little, pressing the front into Willy’s perineum.  He jerks and whines, just like Taylor was expecting.

“Gonna do something?” Willy asks.

Taylor turns the vibrator on, just the lowest setting.  Willy jolts off the bed, his hands flying to Taylor’s head and tangling in his hair.  He tugs, and Taylor goes, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Willy’s sternum, rocking the toy in and out of Willy.

He’s close enough, now, the feel Willy’s heartbeat against his lips, hear the hitching of his breath – and he can feel when Willy tenses again, his breath coming in quick pants.  He switches the vibration off and closes his hand around the base of Willy’s cock, squeezing tight, until Willy relaxes into the bed again, his hands shaking on Taylor’s head.

“Sshh,” Taylor murmurs into his skin.  Once Willy’s breath evens out a little, Taylor flicks the vibration on again, just a little bit higher than before.

He does it again, and again, and again.  Rock the toy into Willy, play with the vibrations, kiss his chest and suck on his nipples, then once he gets too close, grip the base of his cock until he can start again.

Finally – after five times taking Willy to the edge and pulling him back – Willy finally breaks.  He’s gasping into the pillow, his body mostly limp, barely rocking back into the renewed vibrations.  Taylor grins against his collarbone; this is it, when Willy’s given in, sunk as deep into himself as Taylor’s ever been able to get him.  When all that matters is submitting, and there’s not a molecule left of him to care about anything else.

“How do you think Sanny’d like to see you like this?” Taylor whispers against Willy’s cheek.  “I think he’d like it, seeing how good you can be, how you took that toy so well.”

“Chorns,” Willy breathes.

“Could spread him out next to you,” Taylor continues.  “I bet he’d like this toy, too.  Don’t know if he’s had something in him before.  We’d have to work him up to it, right, Willy?”

“Yeah.”  Willy turns his head, taking monumental effort, to look at Taylor.  “We’d have to help him.”

Taylor smiles, and kisses Willy, and finally wraps his hand around Willy’s cock, stroking him slowly.  Willy’s breath picks up, but he barely tenses at all, just lets Taylor kiss him and jerk him off and, after a moment, turn the toy back on the lowest setting.

“Can you?” Taylor murmurs.

“Yeah,” Willy whispers.  Taylor rubs his thumb over the head of Willy’s cock.

“Come for me,” Taylor says, and presses just under the head, stroking Willy off until finally, _finally_ , his back arches and he comes with a sigh.

“Just like that.”  He draws it out of Willy, stroking his cock slowly, until his cock’s dry and he’s gasping from the overstimulation.

“And you?” Willy asks, his eyes already half-shut.

“I’m good,” Taylor replies, and kisses him again.

 

 

It’s rare that Taylor actually comes when he’s Domming.  He loves Domming, does it more often than he subs, by far, but it’s not…

It’s sexual.  It _is_ , inherently, in his style of Domming.  He makes his sub come, he enjoys it, he _loves it_ , and after, or the next day, he’ll remember it, he’ll think about it, that heat will still be rolling through him without the focus of looking out for and taking charge of his sub, and that’s when he winds up in the bathroom at Kettler desperately jerking himself off just from seeing a hickey he left on Willy’s chest.

Willy asks, sometimes, when he’s down.  But Taylor waits at least until Willy’s coming back up from subspace, when Willy’ll ask again, and Willy, soft and pliant and fucked out, is too much to resist.

They scene often enough that Taylor doesn’t even need to come every time; he’s just old enough that he doesn’t feel like a slight breeze’ll set him off anymore, and if nothing else, it’s made him enjoy the times he does come that much more.

He’s riding that edge between desperate and un-ignorable arousal when Sanny approaches him again, about two weeks after that first conversation.

“Can I talk with you?” Sanny asks, his fingers curling the edge of his t-shirt.

“Of course,” Taylor replies, just as he does every time Sanny asks to talk.  They go to the same room, most times, because at least half the time their conversations end with Sanny kneeling for him.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Sanny says in a rush, as soon as the door’s closed.

“Which part?”

“About trying.  Domming.”

Taylor nods.  “What’ve you been thinking about it?”

Sanny takes a deep breath and sits on the bench next to Taylor.  “I’d like to try.”

“Right now?”

Sanny shakes his head quickly.  “No, I think… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t.”

He shakes his head again.  “Can I watch you, first?”

“Watch me?” Taylor asks, frowning a little.

“Watch you Dom Willy.”

“You don’t want to sub for me yourself?”

“No – I mean, I don’t not want to, and, I’d like to, but for the purposes of figuring out how to Dom someone if I’m in subspace I don’t think it’ll really work?”

“Okay,” Taylor says, reaching out to put his hand on Sanny’s arm.  “I know what you mean.  I can ask Willy, but I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

Sanny blows out a breath.  “Okay. Thanks.”

They sit there for another moment, silently, before Taylor asks, “Did you want to kneel for me?”

“Yes,” Sanny replies quietly, and kneels in front of him.  Taylor guides his head down to rest on his knee, trailing his hand over his shoulders.

“If you want more than kneeling from me,” Taylor tells him, “You just need to ask.  All you ever need to do is ask.”

Sanny slumps against him like a puppet with its strings cut, curling close to him and closing his eyes.  “Thank you,” he whispers against Taylor’s thigh.

That’s just – a lot, for Taylor’s self-control, right now.  He tries to keep his hand in Sanny’s hair steady, not pull him closer, not do anything inappropriate.

“You said I just needed to ask, right?” Sanny asks, a minute later.

“Yeah,” Taylor replies, trying to hide the tightness in his voice.

“I want to,” Sanny starts, and looks up at him, licks his lips.  Taylor tries to see if he’s slipped under, at all, if there’s some sense of responsibility or repayment that’s making Sanny offer.

“Only if you want to,” Taylor says finally.

Sanny grins and shuffles closer, putting his hands on Taylor’s thighs, and just.  Waits.  Taylor’s the one that reaches down and slides his sweats down, just far enough that he can pull his cock out.

Sanny doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even hesitate, just leans in and closes his mouth around the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” Taylor sighs, twisting his fingers in Sanny’s hair.  Sanny moans and takes more of him in.

It’s only when Sanny’s teeth bump against his cock that Taylor even considers this is Sanny’s first time blowing someone.  He doesn’t want to embarrass him, or stop, really, so he just brushes his fingers against Sanny’s cheek and mutters, “no teeth.”

It’s better after that, Sanny taking him a little further each time he bobs his head.  He swirls his tongue around the head and Taylor groans.

Taylor can tell it isn’t going to take much, for him, so he takes a moment to savor the feel of Sanny’s hair in his hands, Sanny’s tongue on his cock, looking down and seeing his cock in Sanny’s mouth, the kid’s eyes closed and face slack like this is exactly where he wants to be.

That’s what does it for Taylor, the utter contentment of a sub on his knees for him, and he groans, “Gonna come,” to give Sanny the chance to pull back.  He doesn’t – just leans forward a little more, sucking harder, until Taylor comes in his mouth.

Sanny pulls back once Taylor sinks back into his seat, his hand on Sanny’s head coming down to cup his jaw instead.  Sanny’s breathing hard, his face red.

He grins at Sanny, tries to get his breath back, too.  But before he can say anything Sanny jumps to his feet, tugging his sweatshirt down to cover his half-hard dick in his leggings.

“Hey,” Taylor says, grabbing Sanny’s hand just before he turns.  “You don’t want me to return the favor.”

Sanny’s eyes go wide.  He clears his throat, says, “I’m fine, Chorns,” and waits until Taylor lets go to slip out of the room.

Taylor leans his head back against the wall and blows out a breath.


	3. Sanford.

_Sanford_.

 

It’s hard to wait, after that.  Zach doesn’t really know what he’s _doing_ here, he can just see Chorns and Willy’s eyes on him, every time they’re in Kettler or the Verizon center, when they go to lunch or get drinks.

But Zach already asked Chorns.  So now he just has to wait for the response.  He did his part.

But, sometimes, when he sees Chorns watching him carefully, and Willy not getting as close to him, he just…

They get lunch at Penn Social one day in the middle of November, and that’s when he puts his fork and knife down and, staring at the salt and pepper shakers, asks, “So, are you going to let me?”

“Let you what?” Chorns asks.

Zach flicks his eyes up to him, then back to the table.  Chorns didn’t look like he was doing that meant-to-be-soothing asking-you-to-explain thing, thank God.  He’s just honestly confused.

“Let me watch.”

He can hear the quiet ‘oh’ Willy lets out.

So they did talk about it, then.  Maybe Willy didn’t want to.  Maybe Chorns decided he didn’t want to.  Maybe Zach was so bad that first time blowing Chorns that they just decided it wasn’t worth it.

“Come home with us after, and we can talk about it,” Chorns says, knocking the salt shaker with the butt of his fork.  Zach startles, and looks up at him.  “It’s not a no.  Just – not here, yeah?”

Zach nods and focuses again on his food.  After another moment, Willy starts talking again, about some weird show he’s found on Netflix.  That, and Chorns chirping him about it, at least gives Zach enough time to pull himself together.

He manages to get back into the swing of conversation towards the end of lunch and, somehow, maintain it through the ride back to Willy’s apartment.  Once they’re inside, and they’ve all taken off their shoes and their jackets by the door, the words dry up again.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” Chorns says.  Willy bounces over to the living room; Chorns glances at Zach and rolls his eyes.  It’s hard for Zach to hold back a laugh, and he just barely manages it.  Chorns urges him to join Willy with a touch to his back, and Zach just.  He just _wants_.

“You want to watch,” Willy says, once they’re all sitting.

“Yeah,” Zach replies.

“You want to see what it’s like to Dom someone,” Chorns adds.

“Yeah,” Zach replies again.

“Are you looking for sexual or non-sexual dominance?”

And that’s – that’s the real question.  With his old Domme in Boston, it was a real mix of both.  He’d kneel for her, but he’d also eat her out, and fuck her, sometimes, if she wanted.  She’d text him what to eat or wear, sometimes, when he was on a roadie, but she’d also text him asking for dick pics.

He likes kneeling for Chorns.  He liked blowing Chorns, too, and he thinks he’d like to do it again.

“Both,” he says finally.

“Are you interested in getting off while you’re watching us?”

“I mean,” he starts, and licks his lips.  “It doesn’t have to be a part of everything.  I can just jerk myself off.”

Willy nods.  “Do you normally like to come when you’re scening?”

Zach takes a second to wonder if this is real life, if he’s really going to get the chance to scene with these two.  “Yeah.  I do.  Unless it’s, you know, part of it.  To not.”

“Chorns here doesn’t always want to,” Willy replies, nudging Chorns with an elbow.  “Hardly ever lets me get him off.”

“He let me blow him,” Zach blurts out.

“Dude!” Willy yelps, trying to give Chorns a noogie.  “You let him blow you but not me?  So not bros!”

“Get off of me,” Chorns grumbles, fending Willy off with his hands on Willy’s forearms.  “It was right after that scene we did, you know I usually get myself off the next day.”

“So that doesn’t?  Usually happen?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll still get you off,” Willy assures him, finally letting Chorns go.  “He’s not like Stick, and his weird ‘bondage transcends sex’ or whatever the fuck it is.”

Zach snorts a laugh; Willy looks utterly delighted, and it’s a little hard for Zach to hold onto the lingering awkwardness in the face of that smile.

“So, can we?” Zach asks again.  Chorns and Willy share a look, and Chorns is the one to turn back to Zach.

“What do you want to see?  Usually we do orgasm control – edging, mostly – and toys, not a lot of bondage.”

Zach nods quickly.  “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Chorns smiles, this time with an edge to it.  “Great.  Bedroom?”

 

 

“What did you wind up doing last night?” Schmidty asks Zach, a couple days later.  They’re eating lunch after practice, sitting side by side in the lounge.

“Dinner with Chorns and Willy,” Zach replies, swallowing his bite of chicken.  “Sorry I couldn’t go to that movie.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Schmidty replies with a grin.  “You’ll just have to come next time, right?”

Zach smiles back.  “Yeah, of course.”

“Where’d you go to eat?”

“This place in Old Town, right on the water.  It was great.  Good food, wasn’t too busy.  I’d have to ask Willy for the name, if you wanted to check it out.”

“Yeah, thanks.  Sounds like a good place to take this girl I met.”

Zach pauses.  “Like, a date?”

Schmidty laughs.  “Yeah.  If Willy picked it for a date, it’s probably a good place, you know?”

Zach nods and takes another big bite of chicken.  Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to him that these were _dates_.  That Chorns and Willy were taking him on dates.  That they were dating.  Maybe.  Could be.

“Sanny!” Ovi croons, dropping an arm around the back of his and Schmidty’s chairs.

“Hi,” Zach says through the food in his mouth.  Ovi laughs and squeezes his shoulder.

“You and boyfriends have good night last night?” Ovi asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Zach’s cheeks flame red.  “What?” he squeaks.

“You and boyfriends – you know…” Ovi makes some vaguely pornographic motion with his hands, and Zach immediately wishes he could forget he ever saw it.  All he can do is shake his head furiously.  “Chorns and Willy not taking care of you?”

“No, they’re fine!”  Zach says, probably too loud.  “They’re – we’re – fine.  Good.”

Ovi laughs and ruffles his hair, then saunters away to inflict embarrassment on someone else.  When Zach finally can look at Schmidty again, he’s got a speculative look on his face.

“You have realized they’re trying to date you, right?” Schmidty asks.

Zach just shakes his head.

Schmidty whistles.  “Man, they have _not_ been subtle about it.”

Zach ducks his head, pushing his spinach around his plate.  “It’s not like they need me though.”

“You can still want someone even if you don’t, like, need them.”  Schmidty pauses for a second, like he’s waiting for Zach to argue with him.  When he doesn’t, Schmidty continues.  “But if you don’t want to date them, you should probably let them know.”

Zach fights a smile, and glances up at him.  “That’s – uh – not a problem.”

Schmidty grins at him and nudges him.  “Get it, Sanny.”

 

 

Willy invited him over for dinner that night, too.  Well, Willy invited him over saying Chorns was cooking dinner, and it took Zach barely a second to agree.

“So,” he says, sitting next to Willy at the counter as they watch Chorns chopping some broccoli.  “When were you guys gonna tell me you wanted to date me?”

Chorns’s knife slips.  He curses, and Zach realizes he could have chosen a better time to ask.  But he didn’t cut himself, thankfully, so Zach can go back to waiting for a real response.

“Well,” Willy starts.  “We were going to.  After another couple.”

“You – what – needed to woo me?”

“I mean, yeah,” Chorns replies, starting in on the broccoli again.  “It was Willy’s idea.”

“ _We_ didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you,” Willy says.  “Being new on the team and all.”

Zach rolls his eyes.  “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Chorns tells him.

Zach leans an elbow on the counter, dropping his chin onto his hand.  “So now can we skip from wooing to just – dating?”

Willy grins and reaches across the counter to grab Zach’s free hand.  “Yeah, if you want to.”

“If I want to,” Zach mutters.

“What, now that we’re dating you’re gonna step up the chirping?” Chorns laughs, pointing the knife at Zach.  “None of that sass in this house.”

“Go back to cooking, old man,” Willy tells him, hooking an arm around Zach’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.  “And this is my house.”

Chorns makes a big show of going back to cooking while Zach laughs into Willy’s shoulder.

“Do you think we could try the whole scene thing again?” Zach asks after a moment.

“Fuck yeah,” Willy says.  “You wanna be a part of it this time?”

“Maybe just – closer?”

“Whatever you want,” Chorns tells him.  He puts down his knife and steps over to the counter, looking seriously into Zach’s eyes.  “If you decide you don’t want to scene with us, and you just want to keep watching, or not even that, or if you only want to play with one of us, that’s fine.  We’ll figure it out, right?”

Zach smiles, and Chorns smiles back, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Zach’s.  “Not right now.  But, I think, soon?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Chorns assures him quietly, then goes back to cooking.

“Yeah, whenever you’re ready,” Willy echoes.  Zach relaxes against him, and for a moment, he feels like he’s always been here.

 

 

 “You ready for this?” Chorns asks later that night, after they finished the dishes.

“Born ready,” Zach replies.  It makes Chorns laugh, at least.

Willy’s already in his briefs when they get into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his elbows.  He’d made up some stupid excuse to get out of dish duty, but

Zach perches on the bed next to Willy, and Willy reaches over to pull him into a kiss.  Zach takes a moment to kiss back, complete surprise locking his body tight, but when Willy just keeps kissing him, it’s easy to relax into it, kiss him back, slide a hand up to Willy’s shoulder and hold on.

“There,” Willy declares, when he pulls back.  “We’re even.”

“Yeah,” Zach says faintly.

“I haven’t actually kissed him yet,” Chorns says, amusement coating every word.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” Willy says.

Zach turns to Chorns; Chorns reaches out and cups his chin, pulling him into a kiss.  It’s – sweet, sweeter than Zach was expecting, but somehow fitting exactly into what he knows about Chorns.  It’s the kind of kiss that fits with Chorns’s gentle hands on his shoulders and in his hair every time he’s kneeled for him.

Finally, Chorns pulls back.  “There,” he says, then turns to Willy and pushes him onto the bed with a firm hand on his shoulder.  “Get your underwear off.”

Willy grins and shoves them off his hips, kicking them off so they go flying across the room.  Zach scoots a little closer to the head of the bed, where he can get a better view of the both of them without being in the way.  It’s so much better being right here, than last time when they’d dragged in one of the dining chairs and he’d sat against the wall.  He feels like a _part_ of this now, closer to the two of them, like he’s actually a partner in this whole thing.

“What do you think we should use today?” Chorns asks, pulling a duffle bag out from under the bed.  “Still got a bunch of these we haven’t tried.”

“That _you_ haven’t tried,” Willy replies, but there’s a breathy quality to his voice that shows he’s more affected than he’s letting on.

“Started playing without me, huh?” Chorns leans in and nips at the base of Willy’s throat.  “Showing off for Mike, is that it?”

“Yeah,” Willy groans, hooking his hand around the back of Chorns’s neck.

Chorns huffs a laugh and smacks Willy on the thigh.  “Slut.”

Zach sucks in a sharp breath.  Something about that – just – the affection in Chorns’s tone when he says it, the crack of Chorns’s hand on Willy’s thigh.  Chorns glances up at him and grins.

“You like that?” he asks.  Zach hesitates for a moment, then nods, once.  “Looks like Sanny’s a little kinkier than we thought, eh, Willy?”

Willy laughs and spreads his legs, hooking one around Chorns’s waist.  “He has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Zach asks, settling back more into the headboard.  “Some people have kinkier faces than others?”

“Yeah,” Willy says.

“All right, enough out of you.”  Chorns pinches Willy’s nipple and twists; Willy arches up with a choked off moan.

Starting with that, Chorns works Willy over with more efficiency and care than Zach’s ever seen.  He can tell, now, that the last time he’d watched them had been pretty basic, neither of them putting all their skills on show.  Now Chorns kisses over Willy’s neck, his shoulders, his chest and stomach.  He pinches Willy’s nipples, twists them, laves his tongue over them to soothe Willy then bites down.  He hasn’t even touched Willy’s cock but he’s already whining, bucking up against Chorns and holding tight to his shoulders.  But Willy’s still fighting him, still trying to pull Chorns closer, still biting at any part of Chorns that gets close enough.

Then Chorns closes his hand around Willy’s cock and squeezes, and Willy sinks back into the bed with a soft exhale.  It’s like the fight goes out of him all at once.  Zach can’t help himself – he inches closer, trying to see Willy’s face.

Chorns raises an eyebrow and grabs Willy by the chin, tilting his head back.  Willy’s eyes flutter open, meeting Zach’s.  He looks relaxed, still with some tension, but miles away from how he looked at the beginning of the scene, or even just a minute ago.  His eyes are hazy, his mouth hanging half-open.  It’s…

Zach wants to be him.  He wants to feel like that.  And he also wants to make _Willy_ feel like that, be the one spread over Willy and bringing him down.  He wants to do that for Chorns, maybe, if Chorns would ever let him.  And he wants Chorns to do that for him.  He _wants_ , he wants more than he thought he could, and he knows soon that whatever fear it is holding him back, he’s going to crush it.

Then Chorns strokes Willy’s cock once, twice, thumbs over the head, and Zach gets to watch as Willy moans, his eyes sliding shut.  Chorns keeps going, leans down to suck on one of his nipples.  Willy bucks up against him, fingers pulling at Chorns’s t-shirt.  Suddenly Willy tenses, his brow furrowed, his breath leaving him in short pants.  That’s when Chorns stops and squeezes his fingers around the base of Willy’s cock.

Willy squirms on the bed, alternating between pushing and pulling at Chorns’s shoulders, his breath leaving him on a whine.  Slowly, he settles again, slumping into the bed, barely holding onto Chorns.

“Fuck,” Zach whispers.

“Right?” Chorns says, looking up at Zach.  There’s a different sort of energy in him, now, with a grin spread across his face and a wicked gleam in his eye.  Zach has to press the heel of his hand against his crotch, just to keep himself together.

Chorns winks at him, then spreads Willy’s thighs.  Willy lets him, just braces his heels against the bed and breathes.

“Pass me the lube?” Chorns asks.  “Top drawer of the nightstand next to you.”

Zach swallows and nods, stretching out over the bed to grab the half-empty tube and pass it to Chorns.

“Thanks, kid.”

Zach rolls his eyes.  It’s not like he’s really any younger than Willy, after all.  He doesn’t say anything, though, because Chorns is already slicking his fingers and pressing two into Willy.

“Chorns,” Willy moans, rocking back against his fingers.

“He likes when I start with two right away,” Chorns says, and spreads his fingers.  “Like being filled, huh, Willy?”

“Shut up,” Willy groans, tossing one of his arms over his eyes.  He keeps bucking back onto Chorns’s fingers, though, and he isn’t any less hard.

“What, you don’t want Sanny knowing what a slut you are?” Chorns asks him, and thrusts a third finger in.

There it is again.  Zach has to press against his cock again, he _has to_ , he didn’t imagine that Chorns could have this effect on him when he’s not really even the one being Dommed.

It brings something up in him, something he hasn’t really felt before – a desire to see what Chorns is like when he’s in subspace, if he still talks as much or if he’s as quiet as Willy is.  If Zach could affect Chorns as much as Chorns is affecting him right now, when Zach isn’t even the focus of all of Chorns’s Dom energy.

“Willy’s got a lot of toys,” Chorns says, curling his fingers inside Willy and pulling out a moan.  “You can take a look in his bag if you want.”

“Maybe later,” Zach replies.

Chorns just shrugs and thrusts his fingers in, curls them, and Willy nearly jolts off the bed.  Chorns keeps hitting that same spot, working his fingers in over and over, until Willy does that same thing – tenses up, his heels digging into the comforter, panting hard – and then Chorns stops, pulls his fingers out, and grips the base of Willy’s cock tight.

Willy wails, this time, a short, bitten-off cry, muffled a little when he turns his face into his bicep.  “Chorns, c’mon,” he pants.

“Willy, c’mon,” Chorns teases.  “That’s only twice.”

But Chorns reaches into the duffle bag instead of getting his fingers back inside Willy.  He pulls out a fairly basic dildo, if a bit big, with a prominent head and thick base.

“What do you think, Sanny?” Chorns asks, holding it up for him to assess.  “Same size as you?”

Zach can feel himself blushing, but he takes the moment to study the size of it, and press again on his cock, considering.  “It’s a bit smaller,” he says finally, and Chorns chuckles.

“Hear that, Willy?” Chorns says, pressing a kiss to Willy’s thigh.  “Sanny’s even bigger.”

“Fuck,” Willy mumbles.

“Yeah,” Chorns replies, and presses the tip of the dildo in.  As he thrusts it in, little by little, Willy flings his arm out to the side again, landing on Zach’s leg and gripping his knee tight.  There’s a quiet, breathy moan accompanying every breath he lets out, sweat beading along his forehead.

“Is it too big?” Zach asks, sitting up a little straighter to see where Chorns is thrusting the dildo in another inch, pulling it back, then thrusting back in.

“No, he likes it,” Chorns replies, and strokes a finger down Willy’s cock.  Willy nods quickly, and groans when Chorns shifts the dildo’s angle.

Then, finally, somehow, it’s all the way in, the flared base pressed to Willy’s entrance.

“Oh,” Zach mumbles.  “That’s…”

“This is nothing,” Chorns says, pulls the dildo out, and thrusts it back in.  Willy arches into it, a moan catching in his throat.  He spreads his legs wider; Chorns helps by hooking one over his shoulder and pressing closer, thrusting the dildo in and out.  Willy’s bucking back against it, holding tight to Zach’s leg, but when he reaches down to touch his cock Chorns knocks his hand away.

“Don’t,” Chorns says sternly.  Just that tone of voice makes Zach’s cock twitch.  Fuck, Chorns is good at this, he knows exactly how to take Willy apart and bring him down.  He’s managing to get Zach there, too, making it easier to sink back into the bed and just brush his palm against the bulge of his cock in his jeans.  He trusts Chorns, in that strange way that a sub trusts a good Dom; he trusts Chorns to watch out for him, to take care of him, give him what he needs.  Zach hopes one day he can inspire that kind of trust, too.

Willy tenses up again, his teeth clenched, and Chorns grips the base of his cock again.  Willy throws his head back against the bed and cries out, his chest heaving and tears shining at the corners of his eyes.

“How many times do you usually?” Zach asks, watching as Tom finally sags against the bed, barely holding Zach’s knee anymore.

“It usually takes four to really get him under,” Chorns says, like he’s discussing the weather, as he starts thrusting the dildo in again, just that little bit harder.  “Sometimes only three, sometimes more.  Once more this time, I think.”

Willy looks like he barely hears that, just bucks back against the dildo and arches against the bed.  He’s panting, moans slipping out of his open mouth with every thrust.

Zach – he can’t help himself, not really, and reaches out to rub the pad of his thumb over Willy’s nipple.  He jolts, and groans, and when Zach chances a glance at Chorns, he’s grinning approvingly.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Chorns asks softly.  “Getting to see him like this?”

Zach has to clear his throat before he says, “Yeah, it is.”

“You can touch him some more,” Chorns tells him, leaning over Willy to kiss Zach softly.  “Just not his dick.”

Willy whines at that, blinking his eyes open to pout down at Chorns.

“See?  You can tell he’s not there, right?” Chorns says.

Zach nods, sweeping his fingertips down Willy’s collarbone, circling his nipple, tracing down the center of his chest.  “Yeah.”

Chorns thrusts the dildo in again, hard, focusing back on where he’s splitting Willy open.  Like that, the moment of tenderness is covered up by a devious smile.  Willy arches under them, under Chorns pressing his legs wider and thrusting the dildo in harder, under Zach twisting his nipple and leaning down to run his tongue over it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Willy chants, bucking back against the dildo and seizing up again, fingers twisting in the sheets. Chorns’s hand flies out and closes around the base of his cock, squeezing, squeezing, as Willy cries out and then, finally, collapses back into the bed.  His head lolls back, eyes fluttering, his hips jerking minutely against Chorns’s hold.

“See?” Chorns murmurs, letting go of his cock and sweeping his hand up Willy’s stomach.  “This is what he needs.”

“Yeah,” Zach breathes.

“And then you just…” Chorns leans over Willy, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck, stroking his cock slowly.  Zach can’t look away, from the difference between Chorns now and before, the difference between him guiding Willy gently to an orgasm and forcing him to edge before tearing it away.  Willy barely moves as Chorns brings him off, a couple soft moans slipping out of his mouth, before Chorns kisses him gently and whispers, “Come.”

Willy barely makes a sound when he comes, just a shuddering exhalation as he arches into their hands then collapses back into the bed.  He lies there, shifting every so often, as Chorns works the last strains of his orgasm out of him.

“Wow,” Zach whispers.

Chorns smiles up at him.  “Yeah.”

Zach can see what Chorns means, now, when he says he doesn’t really need to come in these scenes.  Of course, Zach’s turned on, how could he not be?  But it’s almost an afterthought; if he wasn’t allowed to come, he wouldn’t miss it, this time.  It’s not the _point_.

“Willy get a little useless after this,” Chorns says after a moment.  “Not that you can blame him.  So we have to get him cleaned up, get some sugar in him so he doesn’t crash.”

Zach nods and climbs off the bed, grabbing the first towel he sees in the bathroom and wetting it, before bringing it back out to Chorns.  They clean Willy off and feed him some of the granola bar in his bedside table, then all curl up together under the blanket.

Willy’s asleep by the time Chorns whispers, “So what did you think?”

Zach doesn’t know to respond to that.  It was  - it was a lot, it was wonderful, and a little scary. 

“I liked it,” he says finally.

Chorns smiles, and Zach smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone that followed me on this weird rare-pair ride. I'm planning more for these three!!

**Author's Note:**

> it's a story and a half just explaining how this ridiculous idea came to be. but it's mostly from the RMNB article about tom teaching sanford how to fight, and using chorns as a punching dummy.
> 
> join me on tumblr @ somethingnerdythiswaycomes.


End file.
